And now I suppose I can't stay." "Oh, yes, you can stay if you will keep as still as a mouse so father can't hear you," she whispered, a note of joy woven in her tones.
She was leading him to the sofa as she spoke.

He placed a cushion for her, and took his place beside her, resting his injured hand, which was in a sling, on the arm.

He was still weak and shaking.
"Daddy is still in his room," she rattled on nervously, "but he may be out and prowling about the upstairs hall any minute.

He has a heap of things to talk over with you--he told me so last night--and if he knew you were here nothing would stop him.

Wait till I shut the door.